


I'm on fire

by Lady_in_Red



Category: Pitch (TV 2016)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Episode Related, F/M, No Dialogue, One Shot, One-Sided Attraction, Team Dynamics, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-20
Updated: 2017-01-20
Packaged: 2018-09-18 20:56:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9402587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_in_Red/pseuds/Lady_in_Red
Summary: Groupies had been chasing Mike Lawson since he was 18. He was a catch; that wasn’t arrogance, it was the truth. The first time he couldn’t get a woman out of his mind, he married her. And since that damn near killed him, Mike returned to form the minute she left him. An endless variety of women, easily found, consumed, and discarded when he was done. That was good enough, perfect even.And then the club called up Ginny Baker.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I listened to Bruce Springsteen a few too many times while trying to pretend the inauguration wasn't happening, and this happened instead. I would say it's in character for Mike in the pilot, and not particularly in character thereafter.

Groupies had been chasing Mike Lawson since he was 18. He was a catch; that wasn’t arrogance, it was the truth. He was talented as hell, lean and well-muscled, with a smile that made panties drop in Iowa, Alabama, and Nevada on his way to the majors. It didn’t hurt that the girls talked, and word of his particular gifts spread quickly. 

They didn’t know him. They didn’t want to know him, and he didn’t want to know them. Some of them were looking for a ballplayer to ride all the way to a comfortable life as a major league WAG. Mike learned to avoid them early on. He prefered the girls curious if his wicked mouth was good for more than just talk, if his cock was as big as the rumors claimed. Mike gave them a good time and never thought about any of them once they left his bed. 

The first time he couldn’t get a woman out of his mind, he married her. And since that damn near killed him, Mike returned to form the minute she left him. An endless variety of women, easily found, consumed, and discarded when he was done. That was good enough, perfect even. 

And then the club called up Ginny Baker.

Sure, she was pretty, but pretty was a dime a dozen in San Diego, especially for a man with Mike Lawson’s reputation. He’d watched tapes of her AAA games, knew she could strike out a bunch of dreamers who would never set foot on a major league field. He also knew her fastball topped out at 87, and her signature pitch wouldn’t stump their opponents for long. 

In person, the uniform did Ginny Baker no favors, her curly hair tucked back under a ballcap. But she walked with confidence, a loose-limbed strut that was almost masculine but still sexy. Dark eyes, full lips, not a trace of makeup on her face, the sort of fresh-faced beauty who might catch his eye for a moment in a bar before moving on to more likely prey. Girls like her wanted to be pursued, wanted a man who’d hold them until morning and call later. Mike hadn’t been that guy since Rachel left him.

He was actually disappointed when the first words out of Baker’s mouth were about his rookie card, like a hundred other kids he’d met. The last thing he wanted was a reminder of how young she was. Plenty of guys got off on fucking barely-legal girls. Mike didn’t particularly care how old his playmates were as long as they were eager and uninhibited. He had enough daddy issues; he didn’t get off on being dragged into someone else’s.

He shut down Baker’s self-conscious little speech fast, watched any vestiges of awe in her gaze vanish like a light going out. He told her she was pretty, but not pretty enough. Put her in her place like any other rookie. He was good at finding their weaknesses, driving in the knife fast and clean. Let them know where they stood with him from the beginning. And then he slapped her ass, to touch her and remind her she was just another player in one swift move. 

His hand on her ass lit a fire in her dark eyes. No rookie ever stepped up to him like she did, called him on his shit and feared no consequences. Mike fucking loved it. Respected the hell out of it. And still knocked her back down, told her he was an ass-slapper (he was, but he’d never wanted to push any other rookie face down on his bed and spank them), made it clear that this was his field, his team, and his rules applied. 

Ginny Baker wasn’t remotely cowed by his chest-thumping display of dominance. She slapped his ass as she walked away. Just like that, Mike was hooked. The first woman in the major leagues, a publicity stunt cooked up by the front office to sell tickets. She’d be gone in a week. If she happened to fall into his bed, or maybe up against a wall in the clubhouse, or on her knees in the showers before she left, Mike wouldn’t complain. Making those fantasies come true might even be worth the chase. Because she wouldn’t come easy. One conversation and that was clear to him. 

Except in the next moment he caught Blip’s eye, and the message couldn't be clearer. Ginny Baker was off limits. 

That only made her more tempting. 

 

* * *

 

Ten pitches. She lasted ten damn pitches, not a single one anywhere near the plate. And she actually begged to leave the game. With any other woman, that wouldn’t matter. Mike would still want to nail her. She’d be easy pickings after an outing like that, vulnerable to any kindness from the player she idolized as a kid. But his lust turned into contempt in the time it took her to slink off the field. 

That contempt softened to disappointment when he caught her throwing pitch after pitch in the cages hours after the game ended. She wasn’t trying to win points with the coaches, didn’t even know anyone else was there. Still, Blip was the only reason Mike gave her a second chance on the field. Well, that and Al was making him, if only to prove to the front office that the girl didn’t have what it takes. 

Except he’d never seen anyone work as hard as she did. Head down, getting through practice, no chatter, no drama. Miller berated her loudly enough that everyone but the coaches heard him, but Baker just stared him down and kept going. In this mode she reminded him of the Terminator, taking all the shit thrown at her and coming back time and again. The only person who cracked her shell was Blip, as far as Mike saw. For Blip, Baker smiled with a flash of white teeth and deep dimples, and she laughed, loud and unselfconscious. 

She threw strike after strike in practice. Mike started to think her first game was a one-off, but the second started the same damn way. And he was not about to let Baker turn his team, his entire damn life, into a punchline.

Mike wasn’t blind. The ballpark was sold out, the media overflowed the press box. They weren’t even looking at him and Mike could feel the weight of the crowd, hear the roar of their voices. And across the country, little girls were staying up late to watch, while men in bars placed their bets on how many pitches she’d last before she crawled back to the minors or better yet left the sport entirely. Was it any wonder she froze? Just taking the mound tonight must have taken everything she had. 

Mike could feel Blip watching from center field as he jogged up to the mound. If she was going to make it out of this jam, she needed to focus. On him. Fuck the rest of the world, fuck history. She could hate him, she could love him, didn’t matter as long as she got the ball over the plate. 

The panic in her eyes receded as he talked, bullshit and serious mixed equally, nothing so earnest that she wouldn’t believe him. The mic drop at the end sealed it, that little smile and head shake she gave him chasing off the last of her terror. Baker could think he was ridiculous, she could mock him all she liked, as long as she was watching him, and only him, through the rest of this inning. 

Mike crouched at the plate, threw down the sign. 

When the ball smacked right into his glove, solid, perfect, he shivered. She did it again, and again, her face a mask of determination. 

By the time Al ambled out to the mound to relieve Baker, Mike knew she was staying with the Padres. Even at his most debauched, Mike was a ballplayer first. And according to Blip, the girl gifting the crowd her glorious smile was his legacy. 

Mike walked back to home plate, locked away every fantasy he’d indulged over the last week. He could be professional with her. One night wasn’t worth his whole career, or hers. 

And that’s all it could ever be. He wouldn’t do anything stupid like fall in love with her.

 


End file.
